


She Said

by Madalayna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Episode: s02e06 A Fractured House, F/M, Gen, I'm Sorry, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons Friendship, Missing Scene, POV Jemma Simmons, but also kinda resolving angst?, i have no idea how to tag this, what Jemma should've said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madalayna/pseuds/Madalayna
Summary: What Jemma should've said during the argument in A Fractured House.“You left. I needed help. I needed help with the cloaking. I needed help with, um…with lots of other things, and someone to talk…through, at least,” Fitz all but shouted.“What about what I needed?” Jemma asked, surprising herself with her own volume as her question rang out through the quiet lab.





	She Said

**Author's Note:**

> Hey peeps, I'm still alive and all that. 
> 
> I don't know what this is. It just poured out of me one day. If I get enough comments to let me know you're interested, I might keep writing how it would've worked out after this. Knowing me, there will be a rating change if that happens. XD
> 
> If there's no interest (which I get with all that's going on these days), that's cool. It makes me feel better about them, though. Hopefully, you enjoy it.

“You left. I needed help. I needed help with the cloaking. I needed help with, um…with lots of other things, and someone to talk… _through_ , at least,” Fitz all but shouted.

The anguish on his face was painful to see, but how could he not see that there was another side to the story?

“What about what _I_ needed?” Jemma asked, surprising herself with her own volume as her question rang out through the quiet lab.

Fitz looked at her warily out of the side of his eye and didn’t quite turn back to face her, sliding his hands up to his hips in what she knew was his ‘listening’ position. 

“I was there for you for _months,_ Fitz.” Her tone was weepy and she didn’t like it one bit but there was not much she could do to stop it. “I cared for you day and night in the beginning. I was there for your therapies every single day.” 

She looked to the ceiling, trying to get hold of herself, reign in her feelings. “I was so busy making certain that you got every bit of care you needed, that I forgot to take care of _myself_ most of the time.” Her voice grew strained and she started to get teary, despite her best efforts.

Shades of worry began to tinge Fitz’s expression. She didn’t want him to worry for her but she also didn’t want him to never understand what had motived her to leave when she had. 

“I certainly never had time to think about how I was _feeling_.” Nor had she wanted to. “I never spent any time considering how it felt to almost be murdered by a man I trusted, or what it was like to be left behind by my best friend when he unilaterally decided to sacrifice himself to save me.” She pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering and rolled her eyes skyward in an attempt to keep her tears at bay.

Fitz looked guilty at that and it pained her. She still couldn’t accept that what had happened was the only way. She wanted to believe that had she been smarter or faster, something could’ve been done to prevent his injury.  

“For nine days, I thought you were going to die, Fitz—or be so hurt that you’d never recover,” she explained. “But you _did_ survive and you _are_ recovering. And that was all I _ever_ wanted. To see you alive and, one day…happy again.”

There was nothing she wanted more. Though she didn’t say the words, she wanted them to still be friends as they always had. Anything more was still confusing but she knew she wished he could be happy.

Fitz appeared quite contemplative, considering her words. She wasn’t finished, however. “Did you know, your neuropsychologist told me that I was holding you back?” she asked, feeling sure he must not know. She hadn’t told him. He’d seemed so fragile then. He seemed stronger now. Ready to face harsher truths.

“When I saw you looking to me for your answers instead of finding them yourself or when you became frustrated as if I were to blame for it—sometimes you even looked at me like I had to be disappointed in some way—and I felt _horrible,_ Fitz.” She met his eyes and he glanced to the floor guiltily. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“It was clear to me that I was only hurting you,” she said flatly, shaking her head as she wiped away a stray tear that was escaping from her lower lid.

She paused, waiting for him to look at her again. “But, Fitz, I was _never_ disappointed,” she said earnestly. “I was _so_ proud of you. As I sat there by your bedside during the coma, I didn’t expect you to _wake up_ , much less _recover_. And, there you were, walking and speaking again. I knew it was difficult but you worked _so_ hard.” She smiled at him tearfully. She’d always valued how diligent he was but how far that trait extended, she’d never have imagined. 

Her voice lost its vehemence suddenly. “But you couldn’t see that. All you could see was me finishing your sentences because you _couldn’t_ —not because I _wanted_ to be there for you…because I couldn’t bear to see you struggle.”

She saw Fitz’s eyes grow glassy and he brought a hand up to scrub over his lips as he sniffled. She wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t sure how he would respond or if he was ready for a reconciliation. 

“So, yes, I left,” she said matter-of-factly. “I went away for _both_ our sakes. I needed to _do_ something. That was what I needed for my own wellbeing.” 

She sighed. “And you needed to stop comparing yourself to what you thought you were _supposed_ to be.” 

She sucked in a shaky breath, still struggling not to burst into tears with all the emotion coursing through her. But that was one thing she’d come much closer to perfecting during his recovery: putting on a brave face.

However, she looked at him sadly as she said, “And that was all I reminded you of—what you’d lost. That was all you could see in me, not the best friend who would’ve done absolutely  _anything_ to trade places with you.” 

Her lip quivered and a tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away with the same business-like efficiency that she did most everything else.

“And all I want now, Fitz, is my best friend back. However you are is—and always has been—enough for me. I never expected anything. I just wanted you back—in _any_ form.” 

Feeling strangely relieved, she merely looked at him expectantly, awaiting whatever arguments or grievances he might still have.


End file.
